


and i think that shawty i got a thing for you

by fervent



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, House Party, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2412062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fervent/pseuds/fervent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>niall looks at louis and hears clair de lune and the way he laughs waking up on sundays, the way the trees outside his window are just starting to color. thinks about hummingbirds at his grandpa’s farm too far north to even be close to chicago, thinks about doncaster and the small things he knows about his family. always too close, always in his space and the way they can laugh til they cry over nothing, his hands on his skin, his mouth on his skin. gigio’s pizza and the shape his chest has been in since the first time he saw him.<br/>he looks at louis and hears usher singing in the dark of a party, a boy laughing across the room and <br/>feeling it like gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i think that shawty i got a thing for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ampere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ampere/gifts).



> based on a prompt requesting high school student Niall and uni student Louis meeting in the autumn etc, hope you like !!!!

The start of the night’s kind of a blur of _first college party_ and _it’s a good thing we’re walking_ looking back the next morning, _mistakes we knew we were making_ or whatever. They’d accidentally pre-gamed too hard and Harry had ended up tugging him inside by the arm, too excited to wait for Niall to re-establish his balance from the steps up to the door. He’d been certain every person there would be able to see straight through their high school senior bullshit swagger but no one even noticed them walking in, much less questioned their presence. A quick grin later Harry’d waltzed them right into the kitchen and pulled the bottle of rum he’d carried over from his house beneath his jacket out, made them both another drink and a few friends that wanted to share, and they’d toasted to the beginning of the best year of all time. The whole room had joined in.

They do a quick walk-through of the house, hallway full of bedrooms and a bathroom at the end, people talking right in the middle of the hall, all the furniture in the living room pushed to the edge revealing a carpet dance floor or, maybe that’s the intent; it’s mostly empty for people standing to talk over whatever Drake song is playing. He talks to some girl for a minute when Harry disappears but can’t take his eyes off the guy standing over the laptop hooked up to the stereo, has a thin tank top on, tattoos all over his arms, a few on his torso. A plastic cup in his hand, mouthing along to the words as he fiddles with the computer, the guy next to him talking and then he laughs and his whole face is blinding, so that Niall is smiling when he looks back at the girl he's talking to, starts to make up a reply and then Harry is behind him, clapping him on the back and as he turns away all he hears is _I can tell that you been practicing_. One more glimpse out of the corner of his eye of him and he's got his free hand in the air moving like it’s a symphony, Niall turns away smiling. 

They end up in the back yard, Harry having challenged someone to a game of cornhole in the dim lighting of the motion activated wall light outside. Niall vaguely remembers again there was a game earlier, or scrimmage, something, so the backyard is a bit of a wreck, looks like people have been partying for at least half the day. The music on from the living room hardly reaches out here and it’s not until he walks back inside later he remembers the rest of the party has been happening; more people have arrived and the hall is more crowded getting to the bathroom, music is louder. He has to wait for a few people ahead of him but doesn’t mind, thinks by the time he finishes he should have some water maybe and then he’s in the kitchen, can’t find a cup so uses a mug and then it just seems silly not to make tea, it sounds so good so he puts it in the microwave, hits the button hoping it’ll just start and it does, god bless it, 

“Come on, we’re going to 7-11, what are you doing?” Harry keeps hitting the same spot on his back every time they see each other, like some kind of jock on a mission, “Stop, you’re gonna give me a bruise,” and there’s still thirty seconds left on the timer but Harry is pulling at him trying to follow a bunch of people out the door so he takes it out anyway, not quite carefully enough so it burns his hand as it sloshes over the rim. 

And that’s how he ends up sitting on a bench outside a strip mall with a 7-11, a Chinese take-out restaurant, a nail salon, and a laundromat. And where he burns his mouth sipping at hot water in a mug that doesn’t belong to him. And when someone sits down next to him he can’t blame his speechlessness on anything but the fact that it’s the acting DJ from earlier, now looking at him with an eyebrow raised and this close Niall can focus in on the small shape of his eyelashes against his eyelid, has to blink and feels himself flush. “I was going to have tea.” He nods at him completely patronizing and there’s a moment where Niall thinks he’s going to just walk away or something, just never speak and it’s the worst moment of his life, probably, and then he says, “My tea, you mean. You were going to steal my tea.” And he’s British, has this great voice that Niall automatically aligns with watching him sing Drake and that’s a thought. He should probably respond, “Um, maybe? Do you live there?” He nods again but the corners of his mouth are kind of struggling and Niall knows he’s messing with him before he bursts out laughing, “Nah, I live up off Asbury, sorry, couldn’t resist.” The way he’s smiling is too much for Niall to not instantly forgive him, doesn’t care. “I’m Louis,” and Niall has to switch the mug into his left hand so they can shake, feels overly conscious of how warm his skin is from it. “Niall.” 

Harry comes out swinging a plastic bag with a bag of chips and what looks like a jar of queso in it, pulls Niall up from the bench so he has to turn and wave at Louis who’s watching with a smile still, “Maybe we can use that hot water to heat up the cheese,” doesn’t have it in him to dump it on Harry’s head instead. “You’re an idiot, god.” 

 

When they walk in it’s like a different party, someone has turned the lights off and there’s an actual strobe light in the living room, people are actually _dancing_ , the music is really fucking loud, Niall’s completely overwhelmed, loses Harry as he pauses in the doorway. Someone grabs his hand and as he’s pulled into the living room it’s Louis, grinning at him and singing along to the end of ‘We Found Love’ like it’s his one true calling and before Niall’s brain has even caught on they’re dancing together in the middle of the crowd, still has the goddamn mug in his hand with Louis right in his ear _doin’ it on purpose, wind it and work it_ , slow and steady with him. It’s not til the chorus comes in Niall realizes he knows this song, everyone on earth knows this song, _I wanna make love in this club, in this club, in this club_. The whole room’s narrowed down to where Louis is still holding his hand, turning their arms in time with the music and singing loud enough he can hear him over the music, the rest of the room. His register is thinner than Usher’s, warmer, but it’s good and his attitude is better, almost cocky kind of confident but he’s warm, just wants to dance. Niall can’t really keep eye contact, too drunk and distracted and overwhelmed but catching glimpses of him through the strobe, the skin of his shoulders beneath the blazer he’s put on over his still bare chest, knowing he has tattoos covering his arms beneath the fabric, his fucking mouth, it’s all enough.

Three songs later he follows Louis motioning toward the hallway and leads them out, hadn’t realized how hot he’d gotten and the air in the next room is practically cold compared. They’d danced long enough that he can’t really tell where the edge of his body is anymore, music still pounding in his head, feels good to be out of it. Should drink more water. They end up in the practically deserted kitchen and Niall can feel it happening even as he fills the first empty cup he finds from the faucet; as soon as he stops drinking it, the way Louis has been watching him is the same as him stepping in close, same as his mouth pressed against his, his tongue and his teeth when he smiles, tastes that strange sweet but not sweet way that alcohol does, something like vanilla coke underneath it.  

Someone bumps into them eventually, who knows when, Niall’s in a complete haze of lost when Louis pulls away, skin at his waist cold as his hands leave his shirt, not sure when it happened in the first place but he misses it immediately. Louis asks if he wants pizza and they’re already on their way through the living room so it’s loud, Niall confused enough to just nod yeah, hell yeah, and then they’re out the front door and it dawns on him they’re _going_ for pizza, there was a part of his question he must have missed. Louis walks close enough to touch, kind of shudders, says something about fall finally coming into Chicago and Niall nods. “October is the best month of the year, here,” when Louis turns to look at him like he’s curious Niall fights a blush and wins. “And why’s that?” He shrugs. “I dunno. We don’t really get a spring, you know? Summer’s good but it gets miserable, winter is terrible, October is just the peak of fall, you know? It’s perfect.” He doesn’t respond immediately but Niall doesn’t mind, thinking about what kind of pizza he wants and checking his pocket for his wallet, “Doncaster, where I’m from back home, it stays pretty much the same year round. Like, we have cold winters and warm summers but nothing so extreme as here.” Niall smiles at him for no reason other than smiling at him and pulls his jacket tighter around him. It’s gotten chilly, definitive end of summer kind of night, and he feels alive in his skin with it. Wants to do jumping jacks or take off in a run, get out of here, pull Louis along with him. 

 

Gigio’s is the staple spot for Friday-night-wasted Northwestern students so it’s busy, a line to the door and Louis has his hands in his pockets and his eyes all over Niall. Can feel it every time he blinks. When he makes eye contact he smiles all _can’t really catch me if I’m not trying to hide, yeah?_ and Niall is too drunk to not laugh, has to. He’s so warm.

They walk back without stopping to eat, just carry their triangle cardboard containers and eat as they walk. Niall has half a thought as he chews that this street is going to remember this even if he doesn’t, listens to Louis talk about even the _‘shittest’_ pizza here being loads better than anything in England, that his sisters are going to visit and he’s going to feed them nothing but pizza and nachos. Niall thinks he’s probably a really good older brother, and Louis quirks a smile at him when he catches him just watching with an open-mouthed grin, this game of shared looks so weird and unfamiliar but Niall doesn’t have it in him to really care except to know that he’s got his attention, for now at least, and want to keep it, and that he’s got a great mouth and a good voice and he wants to hear him sing another R &B song that doesn’t do him any favors all night.

 

Back in the kitchen soon as they’re in it somebody’s yelling about body shots and Louis turns his head to glint an eye at him and Niall thinks all over again this is the best decision Harry’s ever made for them, ends up gently shoved half onto his back on the dining room table with Louis’ mouth at his navel, his fingers at the button of his jeans, other hand pushing his shirt up. Everything slows down as he watches the liquid pour out of the bottle and then feels it cold on his skin, Louis’ tongue sucking whipped cream-flavored vodka up into his mouth. Niall vaguely thinks he might be dead. He pushes a hand at Louis’ head as soon as the bottle tilts back up and grabs him by the hair, kisses him and gets a taste of something vanilla but Louis starts laughing after a moment and pulls away, turns to the girl with the bottle in her hand. The last thing he’s actively aware of is a sip of Louis’ drink and seeing Harry on the deck outside taking a photo on his phone of two girls holding each other with their glasses raised high.

It’s not their best kiss of the night, maybe, he’s not really thinking about it except as Harry groans again he manages a weak, “Bye, Louis,” said into his mouth still, tongue just at the edge of his mouth. Louis is laughing when he says, “Goodbye, Niall, godspeed,” and actually winks at him as Niall turns, his hand lingering on his neck until Niall steps away. Harry throws his arm over his shoulder and they walk back to his house, _if we close our eyes it could just be me and you_ on repeat in his head the whole way.

 

- 

  
He wakes up on Harry’s floor and doesn’t know his own name, just vaguely thinks _Louis_ . Last name, no idea. His head is pounding, hasn’t been as drunk as he was last night in maybe ever. Homecoming last year, maybe. It hurts. Harry is sprawled on his mattress, blanket kicked off and mouth wide open, snoring just loud enough to be more than breathing heavily. Niall grabs his shirt off the floor and sits up slowly, finds his phone beneath his pillow at 6% battery and with a screen full of notifications. Stops in the bathroom on his way out and drinks two full glasses of water in the kitchen, tries to swallow his nausea down with it and then it’s just a short trip home and he can be in his own bed, forever.   
  
Sometime closer to evening he finally raises from the dead and manages a shower, goes through his phone once he’s back in bed and in fresh pajamas trying to remember what being actually hungry is like. Harry’d messaged earlier just a simple _RIP me_ and Niall replies, _yeahhhhhh yeah thanks styles_ , and then five messages from _my first body shot_ and he can feel his face heat up, _fuck, wait_ . He sinks lower into his bed and buries his face in his hands, _holy shit_ before clicking through,   
 _In case you’ve forgotten my name is Louis and we met last night_  
 _You have a lovely navel area_  
 _Hope your morning isn’t too shit_  
 _Drink some water_  
 _xxxxxxxx_  
  
  
He bikes over to Louis’ apartment later that night, gets there in fifteen and locks his bike to the fence in front of the courtyard. He texts him that he’s there and hits the buzzer but nothing happens that he can hear so he waits a moment to text again _you there?_ and then suddenly Louis is looking through the glass of the door and opening it with a breathless, “Sorry sorry, it’s broken, how are you,” and kissing him on the cheek. Niall has to force himself to smile through the _wait what_ ringing in his ears. Louis just looks at him a moment and then turns inside, walks through a second door past a bunch of metal mailboxes and a small foyer area, takes the stairs on their right. “My roommate’s making dinner, you hungry?” Niall shrugs, maybe could eat now, yeah, “Sure, alright.” He opens the door to 2E and Niall follows him in, smells like Indian food and weed, faintly, thinks that probably makes sense, Louis smoking.  
  
His roommate is standing over the stove in their kitchen, glances up at him with a nod as Louis goes to the fridge. “Zayn, this is Niall, Niall, Zayn,” and Niall says a casual ‘hey’ like this guy isn’t the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and him licking something yellow off a wooden spoon isn’t making his heart race. “I’m makin’ curry, if you’re into it,” but he doesn’t really look up from adding a pile of vegetables in, spices, whatever; he has a stronger accent than Louis and Niall wonders if that’s how they’ve ended up living together. Sort of has to adjust that when he watches Louis take a drink from the beer he’s holding and then hand it to Zayn as he walks back toward where Niall’s leaned against the entry to the kitchen, “Yeah, yeah, sounds good.” Wonders if they’re dating. He’d introduced him as his roommate though. He loses his train of thought as Louis gives him a look and hand gesture he takes to mean Zayn’s pretty stoned before he turns around, “It’ll be the best curry this side of the Atlantic, I guarantee you.” Zayn shoos him away and rolls his eyes, keeps stirring as he checks his phone. They’ve got a two bedroom from what he can tell, the living room where they’d walked in open to the kitchen and a small dining area and then three doors past the TV and stereo setup. 

The food _is_ great, makes Niall wish he could cook anything besides the staples of an American diet, and Zayn’s out the door before Niall’s even cleaned his plate, something about meeting someone for something, “Gotta go see Junebug,” a nod for Niall and a wink at Louis before he goes. Niall feels better once he’s gone, almost immediately relieved. Louis must be reading his mind because he kind of laughs, “Yeah, you’ll get used to him. He’s gorgeous _and_ smart _and_ can cook, like, just give it some time.”   
  
Louis is easy to read, has a simple presence that feels like he's known him longer than just the party the night before and now, doesn't feel like he's hiding any other motives, anything. He's cool in the way that Niall isn't stupid enough to think hasn't taken him practice to perfect, from the way he interacted with everyone last night, spontaneous but attentive, fun and friendly, to now just casually getting to know Niall over a video game. But it's so good, feels like they're already close. Harry hates sitting through a real sport much less a whole game dedicated to one, and Niall doesn't have many other friends that he spends a lot of time with outside school, just one on one. So it's nice to chill, talk shit about Louis' Madden team and how much homework they're both avoiding.   
  
Zayn comes back but heads straight to his room with a quiet goodnight and nice to meet you, seems in a better mood than when he left. "Junebug is his code word for a good shag and some weed," and Louis is rolling his eyes but his tone is so fond it makes Niall grin. "He'll be out cold in less than five minutes."  
  
Casual. Just looks over at him quick and then back at the screen, says it. Casual. "Reallyyyy wanna kiss you again," and Niall can feel himself smiling but it's like he's watching it happen, looks over at him, "If I win can I?" and Niall wants to say even if you lose yeah but he doesn't, nods okay yeah and pretends to put any effort in at all. Something oddly satisfying about getting killed for the sake of Louis setting down his controller and crawling over to him, can't stop smiling.   
  
Louis kisses the same easy way he acts, can feel him testing it out as much as he's just going for it, tongue at his lips and then tracing his teeth and Niall is so far gone for him already he thinks he'd maybe die in every James Bond map ever made. His breath getting caught in his throat makes the softest whimper Niall's ever heard and he wants more of it, kisses back harder and deeper, turns it into something.   
  
"What do you want?" and it's the hard edge of the consonants in his accent really, that does it, swears it is, "To come," and then Louis' surprised laugh into his mouth, "Okay, let's make that happen," pulls him off the couch and into his room. His heart is racing but it's good, maybe the first time his nerves feel like they have a direction to reach toward instead of just settling around him, like a panic, being trapped in an elevator. Whatever. Louis pauses a moment before following him onto the bed and takes his shirt off, says, "I have to say, you look great in my bed," and Niall groans, flops backward and laughs hard, cannot believe this hot idiot is about to get him off. "Stop talking, never speak to me again. That was the worst line of all time." Louis is smiling when he crawls on top of him, "Oh, babe, just you wait," and Niall shakes his head as he gets close, practically resists it when he kisses him again but goes pliant anyway,   
  
Niall's only had a couple girlfriends and seen one guy a few times, and it's not like that equals inexperience but as soon as Louis starts moving with actual intent he can tell there's a difference here, that Louis knows things. Tricks. Secrets. How to hold himself, shift his hips in just the right way to get Niall breathing hard and overheated. When he pauses and lifts Niall's shirt from where it's already raked up to his ribs, Niall shivers again, gets his hands in his hair down below him and closes his eyes so he's completely blindsided when his mouth meets his skin, gives him a quick buzz of his lips because he's so dumbbbb and then a nip of his teeth right at the corner of his hip, another at the base of his ribs. Niall's going to die maybe. Hasn't been this turned on maybe ever and Louis has apparently decided he's going to take his time. He has half a mind to tell him this isn't his first time no need to be so fucking special about it but then Louis' hands are at his fly and what's the point of English when he's looking up at him like that really, "Jesus Christ," "No, just Louis." And he's smirking and it shouldn't be as hot as it is, he's a total idiot _god_ , but Niall has already decided laughing in the middle of sex or whatever this is about to be is maybe his favorite thing he's ever done, so. He lets him have the point for attractiveness, stops thinking about anything but his mouth. His fucking perfect mouth.  


  
 _-_

  
  
Niall wakes up in the morning to a piano, some dream in his head fading before he can actually get a grasp on it, and he knows this song, soft and delicate, _they do not seem to believe in their happiness,_ [ _etc_ ](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clair_de_Lune_\(poem\)) , piano lessons when he was a kid or his mom in the kitchen doing dishes.   
When he turns over Louis is watching him smiling, can feel the exhale of him whispering as it happens.  
“Sorry. Didn’t want you to be sleeping anymore.”  
Niall closes his eyes again and smiles despite himself, curls up closer into the blankets. “Fuck off, I’m going back to sleep,” and it’s Louis’ hand on his face, him leaving it there, the warmth of his skin against his cheek. Doesn’t have the heart to pretend against it.  
“Are you making breakfast, at least?”   
Louis is grinning now, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”  
Niall sighs as heavily as he can muster, practically groans and Louis is still smiling, looking just this side of proud of himself. The song is still playing softly from his phone between them.  
Without a second thought he whips the pillow from behind his head and turns on him, gets a solid whack to the face in before Louis even knows what hit him. “You woke me up with fucking _Clair de Lune_ ,” hitting him the whole time as he’s laughing beneath him, “with no breakfast to make up for it,” Louis’ eyes unfairly bright for this early, must be only noon, “and the worst apology of all time?”   
There’s a glint in Louis’ eye when he whispers, “Shhh, you’re going to wake Zayn up,” and it takes all of Niall’s affection bursting out of him in a laugh to keep him from just yelling something, anything, the absolute _nerve_ .   
“You’re the worst.”  
“Mmmm, yeah, but you love me,” the nerve.  
“No I don’t.”   
“Yes you do.”  
“I literally don’t.”   
  
Louis doesn’t reply again but Niall can practically hear him thinking it anyway, watches his mouth tighten with the hint of a smile, thinks he’s so annoying and dumb and he doesn’t want to leave this bed ever. Lies back down next to him, fits into the space between his arm and his body, closes his eyes again. The song ended a minute ago maybe and the room has gone quiet, the soft sound of Louis’ breathing and his skin against Niall’s ear all he can hear. It feels like a promise.

 


End file.
